


[fly me over yesterday]

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-27
Updated: 2007-08-27
Packaged: 2019-02-13 13:45:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12985320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The town was called Sanctuary for a reason. So when the girl showed up looking for a man who could fly,Samwas willing to hear her out.  Dean would have rather timed how long it would take for the door to hit her in the ass on the way back out.





	[fly me over yesterday]

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’m playing around in kellifer_fic ’s ‘verse here a bit. This story starts up sometime after the end of her wing!fic series “Learning to Fly”. Special thanks to her for letting me mess around here. Hopefully I don’t screw this up too badly. Title scraped together from lyrics for the song “High Enough” by Styx.
> 
> Thanks to: My lovely beta – fu’s embroiderama , clarksmuse , sarahcascade , elanurel and girlnotgone . Most important thanks to kellifer_fic for allowing me to write this.

 

The town was called Sanctuary for a reason.

Dean’s boss, Freddy, told them once that they got ‘all kinds around here’. Of course that didn’t make it any easier for Sam to just walk around like the wings on his back didn’t mean anything. No matter how much he tried to act like they were just a part of him, he knew he was still different in their eyes.

Sam was used to Dean’s company. They’d lived their lives together in motel rooms; in the backseat of that car and then on the farm – always together, except for those years when he was searching for something more, those years that he can’t remember now anyway. But even with all the people around who somehow just … accepted him, Sam still felt lonely. So he cooked and cleaned and trained out of unbreakable habit more than the urge to stay in shape. He played with the dog, Hell Hound – racing around the open fields until they were both exhausted or until he couldn’t stay on the ground anymore. His flight was unconscious by then, his body remembering what his mind had forgotten.

From above the world looked simpler – houses and people, life moving along oblivious to his presence in the sky.

 

\--- --- ---

Dean told him stories over dinner, about the latest car he’s been fixing and the fight Freddy’s brother had with some girl out in front of the coffee shop - spreading on the town gossip like it meant something to Sam. Usually, he was paying more attention to the sound of talking than the words coming out of Dean’s mouth.

“Someone new showed up at the garage today. Started asking about you.”

Sam looked up from his food, fork hovering halfway between his plate and his mouth. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, some chick. She walked in and started asking about you. Well, she asked about whatever was flying around over town, but you know... same difference.”

Dean shrugged, turning his attention back to the chicken on his plate before stabbing a piece with his fork and shoving it into his mouth.

“Mmfph. S’really good chicken, Sammy. You’re such a good housewife.”

Dean grinned, pieces of chicken and rice caught in his teeth, and his cheeks puffed out from the amount of food in his mouth. Sam punched his brother in the arm.

“God, you’re disgusting! And shut up. You’re doing the dishes tonight. Wait… what did you say to her about me?”

Dean tipped back the rest of his beer, clearing the food from his mouth and letting out a large burp. He tilted his chair back against the wall, the heels of his boots hooked around the bottom rung on the chair.

“Just said you must be some kinda big bird or something. Should’ve told her to come out here, though. She was pretty cute. A little too Susie Homemaker for my taste, but you always did like the good girls. ‘Sides, you can’t be too picky, what with the _extra equipment_ and all.”

Dean waggled his eyebrows at Sam, a slow smirk sliding across his lips. Sam just glared at his brother, kicking at the leg of Dean’s chair so it tipped forward abruptly. Dean’s elbows hit the tabletop, dishes rattling at the sharp impact.

“Christ, you’re testy. You know I’m not about to put you up for display.”

Dean stood up from the table with a loud scrape of his chair against the hardwood floor. He grabbed his plate and empty beer bottle, depositing them on the counter before digging a fresh beer out of the refrigerator.

Hell Hound lifted his head up at the ruckus Dean was making, looking at the food on the table longingly. Sam pushed his half empty plate away with a sigh, settling his elbows on the table and resting his head against the palms of his hand. His wings twitched in frustration, a soft rustle of indignation as the tips of the feathers brushed the floor.

Even with Dean around, he still felt alone sometimes. 

 

\--- --- ---

  
A week passed before the woman finally showed up on their doorstep.

Sam was standing in the kitchen fixing a sandwich for lunch, feeding bits of ham and cheese to Hell Hound absently as he worked. The gentle rap on the screen door surprised him, leaving a brief shivery sensation as his feathers tested the air. Sam nudged the dog with his foot gently on his way to the living room.

“Some guard dog you are.”

The dog just thumped his tail softly against the hardwood floor.

Sam walked across the house quietly, instinctively avoiding spots on the floor that creaked and tucking his wings close to his body so he wouldn’t accidentally bump into anything. Sam cracked the front door open and peered out onto the porch, careful to angle his body so the wings couldn’t be seen.

“Can I help you?”

A woman looked up at him, strawberry blonde hair dropping to her shoulders in soft curls and big brown eyes framed by almost white lashes. Dark, dark eyes surrounded by pale white skin. She was short, the difference in their height only accentuated by the step down from the house onto the porch. A brief smile crossed her face, quickly dropping back into seriousness as she bit her bottom lip thoughtfully.

“I … I’m looking for someone. Well, I think it’s a someone. I’m not really sure.”

Sam swallowed, fingers tightening on the doorknob as he waited for her to continue. “You think _what’s_ a someone…”

The woman glanced down, almost shrinking in on herself as her shoulders hunched forward slightly and she wrapped her arms around her waist. She didn’t look up when she spoke again, her words almost lost by how quietly and quickly they tumbled out.

“I saw a man…um...flying. A man _whohaswings_.”

Hell Hound chose that exact moment to investigate what was on the porch, nudging the door open wider with his nose before Sam could react. The woman looked up as the dog snuffled at the screen door happily. When she saw the wings, she just smiled.

“Oh… Oh, I’ve found you then.”

 

\--- --- ---

  
She said her name was Kelly. She looked like a pixie standing in front of Sam; the top of her head only coming up to his shoulders even once she had stepped into the house from the porch. Something about her left him unsettled – the quietness about her or the distant look in her eyes, the pale skin stretched over bone like she was weightless. She said ‘I found you’ like she’d been searching but never once stopped to stare at his wings.

Like they weren’t out of place when she looked at him.

Kelly looked around the house curiously, smiling softly when Hell Hound lapped at her fingertips. Sam looked at her until she finally met his eyes again, his wings twitching slightly as he spoke.

“So… you found me. Now what?”

She hesitated for a minute, eyes tracking across his face like she was reading him before pulling an envelope from the pocket of her jacket. She held it in her fingers tightly for a second before holding it out to him.

“I… sort of found this picture. My Gram died about a year ago and they sent me all these boxes that she had left for me. And…well, you should just look at it.”

Sam tugged the flap of the envelope open, pulling out a faded photograph. There were a few people standing around and a young girl running in front of them, a row of trees in the background. It looked like any old family photo, except for the set of wings on the girl’s back – not pure white like his, but dappled gray and black.

Sam flipped the photo over. Scrawled across the back was a list of names he didn’t recognize. Underneath that, someone had printed neatly ‘Kelly, 10 yrs. - Sweetwater’. He turned the photo over again, studying it carefully before looking up at Kelly again. The woman in front of him was older, harder around the edges without the curve of baby fat, but definitely the same person as the young girl in the photo.

Kelly cleared her throat, pulling his attention away from the photo. “See, apparently I used to have wings, too. Which is just insane. But then here you are, with like…wings, and flying no less. And I guess I was hoping maybe you knew something, because I really would like to not feel like I’m going crazy at some point, you know?”

Sam bit his lip, fighting back the smile trying to take over his face as she paced around the room with her arms wrapped around her. She stopped suddenly, pointing a slender finger at his chest. “Don’t you laugh at me, buddy. I’m not the one who’s flying around like a giant bird, okay?”

Sam closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He closed his hand gently around her finger, stopping her from poking him in the chest. “Okay, okay. We both agree that I have wings. But how do you even know that this picture is real? Have you had anyone look at it?”

Kelly pulled her finger out of his grasp roughly, her face drawn up tightly as she glared at Sam. “Oh yeah, sure. I brought it right down to the Photo-mart and said ‘Hey Joey, whatcha think of this?’ And then I let them come down and measure me for the straight jacket, too.” She started pacing again, running her hands through hair. “Look, I showed it to one of my Gram’s friends and she said I ought to burn this before someone found it. Before someone found _me_. And then my apartment building burned down. And someone showed up at my work looking for me. So I took off and I’ve just kind of been running, I guess. And then… Then I saw you… and I just had to see for myself. I mean, maybe I’m not completely insane, you know?”

She stopped in front of a window, pushing the shades to one side so she could look out. She was hiding it, but Sam could see her shoulders shaking slightly from where he stood. He walked up behind her, touching her back gently with one hand. “Hey… Hey, it’s alright. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just… I have to be skeptical, you know?

Kelly tilted her head up to look at him, wet streaks shining across her cheeks. “I just feel like a lunatic, I guess. How can I not remember this?”

Sam just looked at her, his voice quiet as he spoke. “Yeah, well you’re not the only one who doesn’t remember.”

 

\--- --- --- 

Sam was a researcher.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was in his blood or something; that instinct to delve into old books and scour for the truth of things. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that half his life was lost somewhere in a jumble of fake memories. He’d spent months trying to piece together the way his life had really been instead of the faded half memories that clouded his mind. Dean had filled in what he could but it wasn’t the same; it wasn’t as good as _remembering_. When Kelly showed up on their porch it was like the spark got relit – like all of a sudden he was full on combusting with the need to get to the answer.

 _Who am I?_

The whole thing seemed to make Dean nervous. He would have tossed Kelly out on the porch at the end of his shotgun if it weren’t for the pleading look Sam gave him the moment he came home from work. Instead, he looked at the photo a million times – trying to find some hint that it wasn’t real, that it was just a manipulation or some grand joke. But every time he just dropped his head into his hands and said they looked just like Sam’s had growing up.

Sam was pretty sure that the whole thing just scared the crap out of his brother.

Every piece of information they found was added to the pile of research he’d already collected before he knew there was someone else out there with the same swiss cheese explanation of their life. Witches and elements, demons granting wishes, everything seemed to lead to a dead end. Kelly pieced things together bit by bit, thumbtacks stuck into living room wall like a maze of history.

Dean watched them, watched _her_ like her eyes were going to slip violet at any second.

Sam watched her for a whole other reason.

\--- --- ---

  
Around midnight, they all kind of gave up. Kelly fell asleep on the couch curled into a ball so tight that Sam didn’t dare touch her for fear she would fly apart at the contact. Dean wandered into the kitchen for food and came out with a beer before disappearing onto the porch.

He was tense; Sam could see the tightness in his shoulders and the quick glances sent in Kelly’s direction when she wasn’t looking. Dean didn’t trust her – didn’t have any reason to trust her really – but this was the only lead they had on finding the answers to their own questions. In the end, Dean would go to the ends of the earth to help him figure it out, as long as they had the right direction to travel along the way.

Right now, the only direction was toward her.

 

\--- --- --- --- ---

  
Dean tapped his pen restlessly against the table, an incessant tick of sound breaking the quiet of the room and the stillness of morning. Sam pursed his mouth, eyes slipping closed as he tried to block out the noise. His eyes opened again when the sound halted suddenly, looking up to see Kelly’s hand wrapped around one end of the pen while Dean still held onto the other.

“If you don’t stop, I might have to hurt you.”

Dean looked shocked for about five seconds before a grin broke across his face. He relinquished the pen to her grip and threw up his hands in mock surrender.

“No problem, shorty. Pen’s all yours.”

Kelly scowled slightly but Sam could still see the faint smile on her face. He turned back to the laptop in front of him, running his eyes over the pages of useless information they had gathered.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Sam announced with a sigh, running his hands through the mop of hair on his head. He was beyond frustrated with the lack of information they had found. His mind kept spinning around, trying to compress the idea of this into some neat little package that would explain everything – everything about her, everything about _him_ that he knew was missing with each breath.

Life wasn’t that simple, though. At least not his life.

Dean was holding the picture again, probably still trying to find the catch; to find the one clue to prove her a fraud. He flipped it over in his hands, examined the writing on the back and flipped it over to the front again. Sam could see the gears turning as pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.

“Who took this picture?”

Kelly looked up at Dean briefly from where she stood by the window before returning her gaze back to the fields surrounding the farmhouse with a sigh. “I don’t know. It was just in with the boxes that my Gram left me.”

Sam twisted in his seat to look at Kelly. “Where are the rest of the boxes?”

Kelly turned around to face them, letting the drapes fall back into place to cover the window. Her face flushed pink with realization. “I left them back in Sweetwater with my Gram’s friend, Annie. She’s the one who told me to get rid of the picture. Do you think there might be something in those boxes that will help?”

Dean sighed, tossing the picture back on the table in defeat. “Only one way to find out the answer to that one.” He looked over at Sam knowingly. “Sweetwater’s only a couple hours from here. You wanna try ridin’ or you gonna stretch those things out and wing it over there with us?”

Kelly’s eyes widened at the thought, her breath held quietly in her chest while she waited for Sam to reply.

Sam scratched the back of his neck absently, rolling his shoulders like he was testing his muscles. “Well, at least if I fly, I won’t have to listen to Metallica for two hours straight.”

Dean broke out into a wide grin, turning to focus his gaze on Kelly’s pale face. “Looks like it’s gonna be just you and me, sugar. Let’s get this show on the road.”

 

\--- --- ---

  
Sam wished sometimes that he’d been gifted with super hearing instead of the feathery injustice currently propelling him toward the next part of a mystery. Something more like Superman and less like Super Freak. Besides, then he’d at least be able to hear what was going on inside the sleek black metal of the Impala, cruising along the back roads below him. Sam just hoped that Kelly would survive the road trip. Dean seemed like he’d sooner salt and burn her than find out if she was for real.

Sweetwater was a couple hours away by car, probably shorter if he flew straight through, but Sam followed the fleck of black like a hawk – carving through the air with an ease that still surprised him. They didn’t stop along the way, a good sign in Sam’s eyes because Dean wouldn’t have driven into town if he had to dispose of a body. They parked the Impala near a grove of oak trees and a large farm outside of town; Dean’s sharp whistle drifting up through the air to let him know it was safe to land.

Dean came into focus first, leaning up against the sun-warmed metal of the car like a cat trying to catch the last heat of the engine. Sam touched down carefully, sparing a brief thought of happiness that he had improved his landing skills since the first few rolling tumbles down the dusty driveway.

He started to worry a little when he didn’t see Kelly right away, glancing at Dean warily as he scanned the wooded area. Dean shot Sam a pissy look, pushing himself up off the car with his elbows. “Don’t worry. I didn’t kill her or anything. We just figured it would be better if she warned this Annie person before a man with a six foot wingspan walked into her living room.”

Sam smirked as he knocked Dean over with a calculated nudge of his wing. “Six and a half feet, bitch.”

 

\--- --- ---

  
Annie turned out to be a seventy-year-old woman who had grown up on the next farm over from Kelly’s grandmother back when Sweetwater had been little more than Main Street and a few city folk who lived above the shops there. The rest of the world had been woods and farms then, plenty of places for children to run and play and live in their imaginations.

Annie stared at Sam in shock for a minute, hand held to her heart over the faded men’s flannel shirt she wore. She looked at Kelly with damp eyes, a smile crinkling across her face.

“Just couldn’t let it go, could you girl? Stubborn as always, just like your momma.”

Kelly flushed at the comparison, her shoulders rising in pride at being compared to her mother. Sam wondered exactly what the other woman was like, especially since Kelly hadn’t even brought up her name before.

Annie threw up her hands in defeat then, turning to walk back toward the farmhouse.

“Well, I suppose since you’re all here we might as well go inside. I’ll make some tea and there’s cookies that should be good.” She looked at Sam with a wink. “Especially after your flight, I’m sure you’re thirsty, Sam.”

Sam nodded, tucking his wings close to his body as he followed the old woman into the house with Dean trailing behind him – oddly silent for once. Kelly picked up the rear; closing the screen door behind them gently once they’d all gone into the house.

 

\--- --- ---

  
After a few minutes of awkwardness, they had all settled down at the large oak table taking up the majority of the floor space in Annie’s eat in kitchen; tea and cookies were centered on the table top like they were just having an afternoon snack.

Annie kept glancing at Sam, eyes dropping to the wooden floor every time he shifted to look at her. It made him fidgety, not used to sitting in someone else’s kitchen where one wrong move could have painted crockery crashing to the floor. Their house had been “Sam-proofed” the first time Dean got him riled up enough to spread his full wing-span out indoors. There was no such comfort here, old lady knick-knacks taking up every available surface.

Annie broke the silence, slipping a wrinkled hand over the top of Kelly’s smooth hand where it laid on top of the table.

“Alright, Kelly dear, I know you didn’t go searching these boys out just to bring them to tea with little old me. I ‘spect you’ll all be wantin’ to have a looksee at those boxes your Gram left for you now.”

Kelly flushed pink, tilting her body toward Annie in silent thanks. If Sam didn’t know better, he would have thought these two women related rather than some ‘Gram’ who left nothing but mysteries behind.

Annie sighed heavily as she stood up from the table. “I just wish your Gram could have let it go, the meddlesome fool. You were perfectly happy not knowing until she dropped that picture under your nose.”

Kelly looked up at the older woman, a sad look sliding across her face. “Don’t you think I ought to know who I am? Rather than live my life under some grand illusion?”

Annie brushed her fingers across Kelly’s face, wiping away tears that hadn’t yet fallen. “It’s easy to think that when you’re young. Us old ones know it was more important to keep you safe than to let you die just to keep some feathers on your back.”

Sam glanced at Dean, the weight of Annie’s words sinking down into his bones.

 

\--- --- ---

  
The boxes were a jumble, bits and pieces of one woman’s existence sifted down into a few cardboard boxes filled mostly with photographs, ancient black and white mixed in with scant colored ones with rounded corners and ink faded into softer hues. There was a diary, too – worn brown leather with a silver clasp that Kelly lifted as reverently as some would touch a bible or a rare first edition, fingertips tracing the initials embossed into the surface.

Dean held himself back, leaning against the wall of the kitchen with his hands shoved into his pockets. Sam could feel the tension rising off of him, knew the instinct that was driven into his brother to set aside the memories and push forward to an answer. Unfortunately, Sam also felt the sadness rising off of Kelly like steam, thickening the air around them with unshed tears. She was lucky enough to have some memories left to hold in her hands; Sam’s had all been burnt to ash along with the girl that he built them with.

Annie cleaned up tea cups and plates like she was on autopilot, puttering around the kitchen more out of the need to give Kelly space than because she was worried about a few drops of tea drying in the bottom of well used china. Sam felt helpless, one hand hovering at Kelly’s elbow; wanting to give comfort but doubting the range of boundaries that existed between them. She touched each item in the boxes, some with a mere press of fingertips and others with a curiosity that told Sam that she had lost that memory along with the extra bone and flesh on her back.

When Annie closed the cabinet after putting the last dish away, Dean’s voice broke through the room. “You ready to spill your secrets yet, lady?”

Kelly looked up at Annie quickly. “What secrets?” she whispered, eyes flicking back and forth between Dean and Annie. She looked confused at the insinuation in Dean’s voice.

Annie froze, one hand still pressed against the cherry stained cabinet as she searched for something to say. She cleared her throat after a moment, both hands dropping onto the countertop just as her eyes pulled away from Kelly’s searching glance. “I don’t know what you think you’re saying young man.” Annie looked up at Dean, her eyes bypassing Kelly across the suddenly cramped kitchen. “I haven’t got any secrets, least none that you have any right asking about.”

Dean pushed away from the wall where he had stood the whole time Kelly had been poring over the boxes. He pulled out one of the heavy oak dining room chairs and sat down, his hand falling next to Sam’s where it rested on the tabletop. “No disrespect but that’s a load of bull. You know what happened and you’re trying to distract Kelly with some bits and pieces of her grandmother, just hoping she won’t get up the nerve to ask you for the truth. Normally, I’d say it was none of our business what happened with your family but anything that gets my brother closer to putting the pieces of himself back together are definitely my business.” Dean pushed the chair across the table out with the toe of his boot, chair legs scraping against the wooden floor. “So why don’t you have a seat, then?”

 

\--- --- ---

  
Annie sat down at the table slowly, age spotted hands gripping the edge of the table like she would fall over without the solid oak beneath them. She stared down, examining the whorled grain of the wood, its lacquer worn down under years of use and family. She didn’t look at Kelly, just at Dean.

“You think it’s easy to keep this kind of secret from someone you love? I made a promise though, long time ago when her momma was still around. That I’d keep this girl safe.” She paused for a moment, building up the confidence in her shoulders. “I don’t owe anything to you, boy.”

Dean just stared back at her. “You don’t know the things I’ve done for the price of keeping someone else safe. Especially when the person you’re trying to protect is the one that made you promise in the first place.” Dean’s jaw clenched tight, eyes shifting over Kelly and Sam sitting at the end of the table where they watched in silence. “You may not owe me anything, but those two – those two have earned it with what they’ve given up already.”

Annie looked down at Kelly finally, tears spilling over her cheeks. “I just need you to know that I’m sorry, Kelly. I would never have done anything to make you hurt if I could have helped it.”

A thousand emotions crossed over Kelly’s face, too many allusions left hanging out in the open. “Annie…what did you do?”

The old woman paused, wiping non-existent crumbs from the tabletop with nervous hands. “We did what we thought was best. That man came, purple eyes and sin soaked voice and I _knew_ he was trouble. I knew from the second he stepped foot on my property that nothing good could come from him, but your momma, your momma just had to open the door. She let that evil into your house and let him deceive her. She let that snake whisper lies into her ear until she didn’t know which was right and which was wrong. Same as when your dad waltzed his way in the front door and out the back..”

“And when your Gram finally opened her eyes and saw that he wasn’t trying to help, that he was trying to steal you away – well, by then it was too late. He said there would be a price when he left. Your momma died less than a week later.”

Kelly sat deathly still, trying to let the words sink in. “I don’t understand. Someone killed my Mom because Gram wouldn’t let him _take_ me? Take me where?”

Sam looked over at Dean, his brother’s knuckles turning white from the fists that his fingers had curled into. His face was pale, had been since the mention of purple eyes had met air and reality again.

Annie closed her eyes, a sad smile crossing her face. “I don’t know where, sweetheart. I just knew that we had to keep you safe. Before we lost another daughter. So we took away your gift and prayed it would be enough to keep that man out of our lives forever.”

Sam slapped his hand down on the table, startling Annie’s eyes open. “What does that _mean_ \- you took away her gift?”

She looked at Sam, her eyes dimming to a dull gray, cloudy like a rainstorm. “We found someone more powerful than the snake who came to us. Made a pretty good deal all things considered – ten years for her and ten more for me once she was gone. Won’t pass a crossroads again without seeing your Gram’s face.”

Kelly clapped a hand across her mouth, catching a sob in her throat as she pushed the chairs aside and stumbled out of the house.

Sam looked at Dean, a quick glance of sharp eyes before he followed along behind her – a ceramic figurine of an angel crashing to the floor in the wake of his wings.

 

\--- --- ---

  
Outside the rain was pouring down, sheets of water soaking Sam to the bone before he found her curled against the side of the house, face pressed into the peeling paint of the shingles. He covered her from behind, a shield of feathers curving up over her head to hold in the wet heat of their bodies together. His hands covered hers, long fingers trapping cold pale skin against his palm.

“Sam…”

There weren’t words really, nothing that he could say to change the fact that two people had already died to keep her safe and another was just biding her time. He knew about that kind of sacrifice, knew how much weight Dean carried around on his shoulders over their father’s death. He knew how much weight pressed him down from the sky for the mother he couldn’t even remember anymore.

“Hey … Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He pulled her away from the house, tugging her face against the steady heat of his chest instead of the wood letting water sluice down onto her head. Her body shook, shuddered with every breath pulled into her lungs.

Suddenly, she pushed him back, hands fisted in his shirt as she brought her mouth up to his. Sam’s eyes opened wide in surprise, stumbling off balance for a moment before his hands met the side of the house. Kelly pulled him closer, arms winding around his neck to tug him down into the kiss.

Sam gasped for breath when she broke away, still holding his weight up with palms flat against the wall and her body tucked in between. Sam looked down at Kelly, her eyes blown wide and glassed over.

“I should go back inside now. The rain’s stopped.”

 

 

\--- --- ---

  
Dean pushed his way out of the farmhouse as Kelly went inside, his jaw clenched tight. “We done here yet, Sammy? Should head back to Sanctuary before the rain hits again.”

Sam leaned on his shoulder against the side of the house, one hand pushing the wet hair off his forehead as he spread his wings out and shook them. “Yeah, I probably need to dry out first. I don’t know if Kelly planned to spend the night here or not.”

Dean’s forehead pinched together, irritation showing on his face. “Yeah… I thought it’d just be you and me heading back. Shorty there can figure out her stuff with the old lady.”

Sam pushed away from the wall, walking toward his brother. “What are you talking about, Dean? I thought we were going to help Kelly out. I’m not just going to ditch her out here just because you don’t want to wait.”

Dean frowned. “Look Sam, I just think it would be better if we let her figure this out on her own. We don’t know anything about this girl and her whole family’s made deals up the wazoo to try and keep her safe. Ain’t nothing we’re gonna do to protect her farther than that. ‘Sides - I don’t trust the whole ‘oh no I’ve lost my memory please help me’ bit.” Dean’s voice rose up into a falsetto as he fake mimicked Kelly, eyes rolling back in his head. “You just gotta believe me on this one,” he added, voice turning back to normal. “We don’t want to get involved.”

“What the fuck, Dean! What is your issue with her?”

“I don’t get how you can just let go of twenty-six years of family bonds the second some skirt shows a little interest in you. You don’t know her; she could just be working us over. Working for the same guys Casen was working for. Hell she could be bringing us in as a trade for her own life back, for all we know. I thought you’d trust your big brother a little more. You remember him, the guy who’s saved your life over and over again?”

“I do trust you, Dean. I just don’t put my faith in this weird jealousy dance you’re doing, trying to prove that she’s evil and we’ve got to kill her without even giving her half a chance!”

Dean threw his hands up in the air, back turned toward Sam as he paced across the damp grass. “What are you talking about? I’m not jealous of some half changeling that doesn’t remember most of her life!”

Sam snorted, breath coming out in a rush of white against the cool night air. “Nice, Dean. Maybe you’ve forgotten that _I_ don’t remember half of my life either? All I’ve got is what you’ve told me. Kelly doesn’t have the luxury of a big brother looking after her. All she’s got is a dead mother sharing the ground with a dead grandma and this woman who claims to be her _friend_ , keeping her whole life one huge secret from her.”

Dean stared at the ground, running his hands through his hair irritably. “I don’t blame her for that one, Sam. I’ve been there. _You_ put me there the first time you tried to lose those feathers in an attempt at normal. It’s not so easy keeping your mouth shut to protect someone, especially when you’ve got the weight of promises hanging around your neck like its going to choke you any second.”

Sam sighed, leaning against the side of the house like his bones wouldn’t support his weight anymore. “And there it is - it’s not that you’re jealous of her. I think at the end of it, you still think I’m going to leave you again. But that isn’t going to happen, Dean; no matter who else comes into our lives, I’m still going to want you there. And I know that I need an ice pick to get this through your thick skull but I want you to be happy, too. I want you to find something more than just fixing cars and looking after your freak little brother. So this isn’t about _her_ , Dean. It’s about you and me. It’s always going to be about you and me, so just get over it so we can figure this thing out and go home.”

Dean stared at the ground, chastised by Sam’s words. “You aren’t a freak, Sam. Never will be to me.”

Sam brushed the wetness off his face, tears mingling with the rainwater still clinging to his skin. “Then just let me do this, Dean. I can’t just push her away. I need to help her – I don’t know why and I don’t know how, but this is just something I’ve got to do.”

The screen door slapped open, banging against the front of the house as Annie and Kelly stepped out onto the porch with boxes in their arms. Kelly’s face was tight, her eyes rimmed in red.

“I think we’ve got everything we’re going to get here. I’m ready as soon as we load these boxes into the car.”

Annie stared out into the trees, depositing the boxes into the Impala’s trunk without a word once Dean had walked over and opened it for them. She reached out for Kelly’s hand as she walked by, flinching when Kelly stepped back out of the way.

Sam caught her eye as she stepped up onto the porch. “You watch out for my girl now. I haven’t got any more answers to give. I’m sorry.”

The screen door shut behind her, heavy oak clicking shut to block out the world.

 

\--- --- ---

  
The rain held off until they got back to the farmhouse, thick black storm clouds choking the sky. Sam kept up with Dean easily though he could tell that they were speeding, foot to the floor break neck around each curve in the road. With only the wind as his soundtrack, Sam could hear his argument with Dean on repeat in his mind.

 _Trust me._

 _Trust._

He had always trusted Dean, little boy confidence in his brother carrying on far past his wide-eyed youth, but Sam wasn’t ready to give up yet. Even with the dead end they seemed to have reached, even with an unbreakable deal with a demon, Sam wasn’t ready to give up - for Kelly’s sake as much as his own.

Coming back home was a comfort after the emotional rollercoaster of the day. Kelly was vacant at that point, climbing out of the Impala and walking into the house without a word to anyone. Sam opened his mouth to say something to Dean but Dean just shook his head. Whatever had happened on the ride home was something neither one of them wanted to talk about.

Sam sat on the front porch for a while, watching the sky lighten as the storm clouds passed over the house and then darken again as night swept over them. Eventually, he went inside and to his bed.

 

 

\--- --- ---

  
Sam woke up in the middle of the night with a cold wet nose in his ear. Groaning, Sam rolled out of bed and walked through the quiet house to let the dog outside. Hell Hound circled around Sam, twining between his legs in the ancient dance between dogs and humans; love and loyalty doled out in immeasurable portions.

Sam opened the front door and stepped out, Hell Hound by his side for a moment before he was caught on the wind, the scent of rabbits and life drifting in the breeze. He watched as the dog ran in circles and figure eights, stopping only to relieve himself on a certain leaf or bush marking out the range of his territory in the world. Sam stood in the yard, just clear of the porch. He could feel the wind tugging him, lifting each feather in a coaxing pattern.

His feet were grounded, though – deeper than the roots of the hundred-year oak that towered over the farmhouse. In the quiet of night, he was the earth and the sky, with clouds in his hair and the soft pull of soil and gravity keeping him in place. In the end, it was just a dream, arms stretched wide to catch the breeze.

He didn’t hear her coming until she touched him, soft hands slipping across the down of feathers close to his skin and gliding up to trace the longer flight feathers with her fingertips. The act sent a shiver through him, like she had touched someplace far more intimate. Kelly didn’t make any move to step around in front of him – just laid her face against his back, cheek pressed into the curve of bone covered in soft white. It was Sam who turned, pulling her into the heat of his body; into the cocoon of his arms with the weight of wings hovering just outside.

Kelly turned her face up, mouth brushing against neck softly, wet tongue against his pulse tripping along with the rhythm. His hands slid down to slender hips, spanning over worn grey pajama pants with fingertips pressed tight enough to keep her still.

Sam buried his face into the crown of her hair, nose deep in soft curls. “You sure about this? With everything that happened today?”

She answered by pressing closer, hands sliding up along his spine and back down with a soft scrape of nails where flesh met feather. Sam groaned, hips stuttering forward, his cock a hard line against her belly.

“Haven’t done this in a while. Not since … Not since I came back here. Not since I changed back.”

Kelly pushed up onto the tips of her toes, mouth against his ear. “Everything else feels the same, though. As long as you don’t expect to do it mid-flight, we should be good.”

Sam laughed, tension sliding out of his bones. “Oh, we’ll save that trick for later. Let’s try it on solid ground first.”

Kelly pulled back, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she tried to maintain a serious face while dropping down onto her knees in the dirt. “Solid ground sounds like a plan to me.”

Pale, slender fingers tugged at his zipper, denim pushed down over his hips so they could encircle the length of him. The first lap of her tongue drew a gasp from his lungs, shivers tracking up his spine and along the edges of fine bone lining his wingspan. He didn’t realize his wings were spread out against the wind until she traced her fingertips over the cut of his hip and whispered, “Don’t fly away now, Sam.”

Wet heat surrounded him, brown eyes sliding closed as she tipped her head back and took him in.

He was pretty intent on staying put at that point.

 

\--- --- ---

  
Morning brought a deceptively bright sky, sunlight streaming through open windows onto Sam’s bed where he lay sprawled across the naked span of Kelly’s body. A noise behind them had Sam lifting his head up, neck twisted to see Dean’s mocking face in the doorway.

Except it wasn’t Dean standing there. The swirl of black obscuring his brother’s eyes was absolute confirmation of that.

“Well. It looks like I’m getting the two for one special today, with a bonus Winchester to sweeten the pot. Lucky me.”

Whoever it was encased in Dean’s body flashed his brother’s classic sneer, white teeth glinting in the sunlight.

“Up and at ‘em, Sammy – and bring girly there along with you, she’s gonna want to hear what my plans for you two are, I’m sure.”

Sam swallowed heavily, eyes tracking Dean’s (not Dean) movement until he was out of sight in the kitchen. Kelly stirred sleepily, hands brushing over his shoulders softly.

“Sam? What’s wrong?”

Sam twisted back around to look at her, a hollow feeling settling into the pit of his stomach as he looked down at her face. “I need you to trust me, Kelly. Something bad is going down and I need to know that you’ll listen to me no matter what. Can you do that?”

Kelly’s eyes grew wide, flitting across Sam’s face like she was gauging how serious he was. Every muscle in his body was tense, wings shifting and resettling in a nervous tic.

“I trust you.”

 

\--- --- ---

  
Dean was standing in the kitchen, cup of coffee in his hand like every morning. Like every morning, even though it wasn’t really Dean standing there - just some black smoke swirling around inside Dean’s skin. Sam came in first, Kelly tucked behind him in the protected curve of feather and bone wearing yesterday’s rumpled jeans and t-shirt.

Dean turned toward them, sinful smile spread across his face. His lips parted, white teeth bared looking sharper than normal under the flat gaze of black eyes. “And here come the winged wonders. Good morning, Kelly dear - your mother says ‘hello’. I have to say, you look just alike.” He stepped closer, eyes never leaving her face. “We’ll have to see if that holds true when you’re screaming for mercy. Up ‘til now she’s the prettiest I’ve ever seen but I bet you take the cake, such a sweet young thing. Fresh innocence just waiting to be defiled.”

Dean tried to step closer but Sam blocked his path, full height looming over the shorter man. Sam’s eyes flared, bright and dangerous.

“Shut up.”

If anything, Dean’s smile grew brighter. He tore his gaze away from Kelly, focusing empty orbs on Sam.

“Don’t worry, Sammy. I’ll get to you, too. This is going to be an equal opportunity massacre.”

Sam tipped his head up, jaw clenched in defiance.

“My name is Sam. And that’s bullshit. If you were planning on killing anyone, it would be done by now. Who the fuck are you and what do you want from us?”

Dean stepped back, clicking his tongue in disbelief as he paced around the living room.

“Always the impatient one, Sammy. I’ve come to finish something. Something started by one of your own – I think you know whom I’m referring to, college boy. Stupid human thought he could class himself up with a little offering but, no matter what darkness ran through his veins, he was still human in the end and he could never compete with the big boys. He would have been left licking the soles of their boots even if his little power play worked the way he wanted it to.”

Dean paused, turning on his heel to face Sam and Kelly again.

“But what he couldn’t follow through on, I can. Just the sight of you, the symbolic angels falling from the sky and the world will _tremble_. I’ll give her back her precious wings just to rip them from her body one more time. And when I’m through, you’ll all be groveling at my feet, begging me to allow you to stand in my presence. And it will be glorious.”

Dean spread his arms wide, self-satisfied smirk a permanent fixture on his face. “And your brother can watch it all fall down around him from his box inside his brain. You remember how that felt, Sam? Watching the knife slip into flesh with no way to stop your own hand? Only this time, this time the flesh will be yours – and the hand will be his.”

Sam smiled. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

The words were burned into his memory, night and day spent memorizing the exorcism just in case, a penance for the sins committed by his hands but not his heart.

 _“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…”_

Dean shuddered for a moment, head tipping down to his chest as he began to whisper something just quiet enough that Sam couldn’t hear the words over his own chanting.

Suddenly, Kelly’s eyes rolled back in her head, her shoulders sagging as if a weight had suddenly been placed on them. Her mouth opened in a gasp, head falling back as her eyes slipped closed. “I can feel them Sam… I can feel my wings. I remember them.”

Sam grabbed her arms, fingertips digging into her skin. “Kelly, open your eyes. They aren’t there. It isn’t real. He’s just putting thoughts into your mind. Kelly, you have to trust me.”

The demon whispered seductively behind them, sin in his voice. “It can be real. I can make it real, Kelly. Trust _me_. Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this what you’ve been searching for since you first laid eyes on that picture?”

She tipped her head back up, eyes full of tears when they opened to look at Sam. “I want it to be real, Sam.” She looked lost, just waiting for someone to push her in one direction or the other. Sam ran his hands down her back, across her shoulder blades. “They aren’t there. Can you feel my hands?”

The tears fell one by one, weight visibly lifting off her shoulders. “It isn’t real.”

Something slammed into Sam’s back, a force pushing toward him, pressing his wings apart. He braced himself, feet shifting outward to keep from toppling over.

The voice spoke again, louder now. “You can’t beat me, Sam. Dean’s always been better. Stronger. Faster. Normal. You’re just a freak after all – don’t even know if your momma is who they say she is. Let your girlfriend die because you weren’t smart enough to figure things out. And Dean here’s been putting up with you all along. Taking care of his little brother out of some distorted sense of duty to a man that might not even be your father.”

The voice dripped venom, rumbling through the air like a million shockwaves. “Should have killed you when I first found out about you, changeling. The second you saw that picture I could have found you. The second you finally opened your eyes and saw what you were. I’ll let you fly, little girl. I’ll let you fly until you slam face first into the sharp concrete pain of death. He can’t save you, Kelly.”

Sam’s eyes blazed, fury boiling up through his veins as he fought to speak the words that would end this. He clenched his teeth, forcing his fingers to gentle where they bruised on Kelly’s arm. Kelly reached her hands up, fingertips brushing across Sam’s clenched jaw as tears ran down her face. “Finish it, Sam. You can do this.”

He forced his mouth to open, words spilling out into the air slow and deliberate.

 _“Recede ergo en nomine Pa tris, et fi lii, et Spriritus Sancti: da locum Spiritui Sancto, per hoc signum sanctae: Crucis Jesu Christi Domini Nostri: Qui cum Patre et Spiritu Sancto vivit et regnat Deus, per omnia saecula saeculorum.”_

The thing inside Dean screamed, a feral roar as a cloud of black spiraled out into the room and disappeared. Dean’s body slumped to the floor. “Thanks, Sammy”, he whispered before passing out.

 

\--- --- ---

  
The night was cool, summer sliding slowly into autumn with crisp air and shortened days. Kelly liked watching the sunset, said it reminded her of something – though she wasn’t sure what. Sam knew how that felt, the ghost of a memory he should have had flickering in the back of his mind, so when she walked out to the fence every night he just followed.

He stood behind her as she perched on the top of the rough posts, the wind ruffling gently through her hair and his feathers. She was quiet, just watching the colors sink lower and lower until the air turned purple gray around them.

“I still wish I could remember.”

Sam stepped closer, resting his hands on her shoulders gently. She leaned back into his touch, tipping her head back to rest against his chest. His hands slipped down her arms to her wrists, fingers wrapping around the delicate bone there.

“I know.”

The sounds of music drifted toward them from the house, growing louder as Dean turned up the radio. Sam chuckled when he recognized the song as Kelly slid off the fence and turned to face him.

“What’s so funny, Sam Winchester?” she said, poking him in the chest softly with her finger.

“Dean’s playing Zeppelin for us.”

“Well I hate to tell him, but ‘Stairway to Heaven’ doesn’t exactly scream romance.” She smiled though, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. “I s’pose it’s the thought that counts.” The truth was that Dean still seemed a bit wary of Kelly, boxes piled into the corner of Sam’s room marking her intention. But he seemed to be trying at least, in his own strange way. And for now that was good enough for Sam.

He leaned down then, brushing his mouth softly against hers as the melody weaved around them.

“Well, at least it’s not Peter Gabriel.”

The stars came out as she laughed against his chest, his hands covering her back where she should have matched him feather for feather.

 

\--- THE END ---


End file.
